Behold, He cometh with clouds;
And every eye shall see him,
And they also which pierced him;
And all kindreds of the earth
Shall wail because of him.
Even so, Amen... (REV 1:7)

"Silence!" Elijah's deep voice cut through the tension-filled living room
like a cannon shot. "You are to be my bond-woman, and you will speak only
when you are spoken to!"

"Nigger bastard!" Angela sprang at the black giant like a tigress protecting
her cub, rage and venom dripping from her voice and eyes. The use of the
word 'nigger' made Sam cringe and shield her eyes partially. The teenage
beauty was horrified by the scene unfolding before her, but unable to tear
her eyes way. "Who the hell do you think you are?" Angela hissed as she
descended on Elijah.

"This is who I am!" Elijah responded, deflecting Angela's wild blow with his
left hand, then gripping her hand in his massive black paw. With his left
hand, he twisted her down to the floor in one quick violent motion,
continuing to casually pet and stroke Sam with his right hand. "This is who
I AM!" he repeated, twisting her hand up to his crotch and placing her
fingers upon what felt like a softball stuffed beneath his flowing robes.

"Oh... my... God," Angela stammered when her mind finally conceptualized what
it was she touched and it's ungodly dimensions.

"Who am I?" he asked, lifting Samantha off his lap and dragging Angela's
quivering hand up the entire, length of leaden cock-pipe that stretched
endlessly beneath his robe. "Tell me who I am."

"A... God," she barely whispered, her hand traveling well over a foot up the
petrified fleshy trunk with no hint of reaching the roots to this sequoia of
cocks.

"Angela?" Tony finally awoke out of his stupor. "What are you doing?"

"Worshipping a real man," Angela shuddered, not taking her eyes off Elijah's
robe-covered crotch. "I had... no idea," she gasped, her mouth gaping in
utter disbelief, her fingers exploring four more inches of the manhood
mountain and still not discovering the base she knew had to be there...
somewhere beneath Elijah's robes.

"SAM!?" Tony exploded, half bellowing, half crying. He sprang at Elijah now,
only to find Mona hurling herself in his way, blocking his attack and
scratching at his eyes.

"You must learn your place, Tony," she hissed, as Tony cowered back in shock.

"You have served before," Elijah looked approvingly at Mona.

Mona nodded. "It was the happiest time of my life. My husband and I had the
pleasure of serving a Black God such as yourself. He was a friend of my
husband from his days in the army..."

"Uncle Elmo!" Angela looked at her mother with a mixture of shock, disbelief
and joy.

"Yes," Mona nodded. "Once I knew your father wanted to marry me, I made
him join me in submitting to a Black Master. I chose Elmo because of the
glorious humiliation it caused your father; his token Negro army buddy
sexually enslaving his willing wife. I made your father watch us, assist us,
pay for everything Elmo desired to further my absolute submission - honeymoon
suites in four-star hotel rooms, expensive sexy outfits Elmo would tear from
body, home movie-making equipment Elmo used to chronicle my transformation
into an utter whore for black cock. One time, your father had to pay the air
fares of seventeen Black Brothers who indoctrinated me into the Holy Rite of
the Black Gangbang.

"Your father and I served Elmo for six years," Mona smiled as she remembered
the days. "He allowed your father to have sex with me only to produce white
offspring -- slaves for Elmo's use and for the whims of Black Masters
everywhere. You," she pointed to her daughter, "were joyfully bred to be a
slave-daughter for Elmo, a blond-haired cum dump for his sacred dark seed.
He was going to take your virgin white cunt upon your first period. Don't
you remember the special birthday party we had planned, the one that was
suddenly canceled..."

"We told you Uncle Elmo was killed in a car accident," Mona breathed sharply,
trying to stifle the tears welling up in her throat. "He was really arrested
and beaten to death in jail," Mona choked, "by gutless, dickless white
policemen. One of his other slaves," she stammered slightly as she recalled
the tragedy, "her father found out. He hired investigators who learned the
truth, that Elmo had Mastery over fifteen white cum-buckets such as myself,
that he lorded his God-given black supremacy over weak, limp-dicked white
worms like your father."

"Uncle Elmo was killed?" Angela began crying. "By white men?"

"It was a different era back then." Mona shook her head and brushed back a
tear. "Black men who had sex with white women were arrested and persecuted,
many were accused of rape, castrated and lynched. White men didn't want to
admit the truth, that all white women secretly lust and long for sexual
slavery to a strong Black Masters, that the spineless White Man should humbly
and willingly subjugate himself to the supremacy of the Black Man.

"It was horrible," Mona continued. "When our names appeared in Elmo's list
of willing slaves, the police began to harass us. Word of our lifestyle
crept out. Your father lost his job. Our lives were threatened. We had no
choice but to move and start our lives over."

"Th..that's why..." Angela stammered, now frantically trying to piece
together a puzzle - her bizarre childhood -- she thought she had completed
long ago. "I remember now... You and father... after we moved, I never saw
you even... hug him again..." Angela's body trembled as the painful memories
of her parent's icy marriage emerged to the surface.

"I never slept with him after that," Mona nodded. "I was terrified to find
a new Black Master, too, always remembering what had happened to Elmo. So I
was left with nothing... no sex life at all. It was years before I slept
with a man again, and by then I was older and less attractive. I did not
deserve the attentions of a Black Master. So I betrayed myself and the vows
I took to Elmo and polluted myself with white men." She turned to Elijah.
"I'm so sorry. I know I can never be forgiven for my betrayal. You will be
happy to know, though, that I've been unable to orgasm ever since. I pretend
to lust after white men to keep up appearances, but each and every one has
been a disappointment - their tiny limp penises, their impotence, their
premature ejaculation."

Elijah nodded knowingly. "Having sexual relations with the white worm has
been your punishment," he replied sternly. "The Order has been Restored now.
You will be my bond-matron. You will prepare the bond-women of this family
for their lives of servitude. I will allow you to assist me while breeding
them. If you serve me well, I may bless your mouth, cunt and asshole by
using your decrepit white body as a cum dumpster for my excess seed."

"I would honored," she beamed at the black giant. "I have been empty ever
since the last moment my white cunt was filled with almighty black cock."

"It looks as if your family has made their choice, Micelli," Elijah smiled at
the emasculated Italian housekeeper. "As I knew they would. Order has been
Restored to this household. We must now sanctify this sacred relationship."
He turned to Angela and Sam. "We will go at once and pick up suitable
wedding dresses for you both. We will be wed in a ceremony this evening."
He turned to Mona. "When we return, you will prepare these bond-women for
their new lives under my dominion. You are familiar with the rites and
ceremonies I take it...?"

"I may need some brushing up," Mona responded, "but basically, yes. Do you
have some material I can study while your gone?"

"Yes, you will find the appropriate instructional material in the front
seat of my car in a briefcase. Study it carefully. I expect you to be
well-versed in the teachings of Yahweh Afrika. Any disobedience or ignorance
on their part will be your responsibility, and you will bear the brunt of all
discipline."

"Yes, Master," Mona smiled as she said the words, almost as if she was
uttering a prayer she knew would be answered.

"You will assist Micelli in preparing this house for a wedding," Elijah now
turned to Jonathan. "If you perform well as my white toad, I will reward you
as befits a pathetic white-skinned worm."

"Y..yes, Master," Jonathan stammered, smiling as he released the last
syllable. He envied his mother and Samantha. If only he had been a white
woman, he too could be a slave-wife and worship black cock. But, alas, he
was relegated to accepting only the meager rewards Elijah deemed fit. Still,
something would be better than nothing, and he would be able to worship the
god's powerful Black phallus, if only from afar.

"Micelli, you will call everyone you know... all your friends, all Angela's
friends and co-workers, all Samantha's school friends - boys and girls. I
would like at least 100 people here to witness this event. We shall be wed
here in your living room..."

"Very well, then," Elijah nodded. "It is probably best we get everything out
in the open, then. Am I correct, Sam?" he asked.

"What are you talking about?" Sam was puzzled.

"The eight years of gross sexual abuse you have undergone at the hands of
your father, of course," Elijah smiled.

"I... what are you talking about?" Sam's eyes suddenly lit afire. Elijah's
words registered through the haze of black lust that had momentarily seized
her soul. She looked at her sobbing distraught father, and her mind snapped
back to the reality that had been her life. This man was threatening her
father... her father.

"Daddy!" Samantha tried to tear herself from Elijah's powerful grasp, but she
found that she was helpless in the black giant's grip. As she squirmed about
frantically, Angela held her, too, peering into Sam's dark, sobbing eyes.

"Oh, you poor thing," Angela soothed Sam's fevered brow. "You're so lucky I
walked in when I did." A wicked smile twisted over Angela's face. "It was
absolutely horrible," she started to feign tears. "There you were, pinned
on your stomach while Tony... your own father... anally raped you. The
monster," she shuddered.

"Stop it!" Sam flailed about in vain, trying to get at Angela, trying to
silence the words that stabbed into her teenage brain.

"Like all white men, he couldn't please a real women, so he had to rape his
own defenseless daughter," Angela continued.

"You're in denial, Samantha," Angela stroked Sam's hair, doting on the
dark-haired teen beauty. "You have to admit the Truth. Look at Elijah."
Angela rubbed the black giant's huge muscles. "Look at the Truth. The Truth
of Black Supremacy. The Truth of your status as slave to black cock, a
worthless cum dumpster whose only purpose is to breed more slaves to serve
the Black Man."

"NO!" Sam snaked free from Elijah's grasp like a wildcat and slashed at
Angela's face. The two toppled to the floor in a flurry of arms and
fingernails. Sam began the struggle on top, shaking Angela and demanding she
"STOP!" Th older blond beauty was bigger and stronger, however, and quickly
turned the teen on her back. She struck Sam hard on the face, and Samantha
Micelli shrieked in pain.

"SAM...?!" Tony started towards his daughter. He never saw the
lightning-fast kick that shot out from the black titan's chair. A sharp pain
rifled through Tony's crotch, and he crumbled to the floor clutching his
wounded testicles. An immense boot slowly lifted Tony's head until the
once-proud Italian could not help but stare into the glowering eyes of the
African Adonis towering above him.

"Despicable, Micelli," Elijah shook his head and spit in Micelli's sobbing
eyes. "Raping your own daughter. How can you live with yourself? Well,
you'll have the rest of your life to think about your crimes in prison. I
understand pedophiles who rape their own children are quite popular with many
of my Brothers."

"Wh..why?" Tony blubbered into the Black God's boot.

"The Order must be Restored. The white woman must serve as the Black Man's
bond-woman, and the white man must subjugate himself to his Master and
assist in this Process. These are the teachings of Yahweh Afrika, and the
Restoration will not be denied. Now if you do not yield, I will have no
choice but to destroy you and take what is mine. Subjugate yourself to my
Mastery, and at least you will be given the honor of helping me breed your
daughter and the woman you love."

"Yes, you will," Elijah corrected him. He picked up the telephone and
threw it in Tony's face. "Go ahead, Micelli. Call your oppressive white
policemen. I am sure they would believe your story over that of your
employer, a respected woman striving to protect the girl she considers a
daughter."

"You won't be able to do this, you black bastard," Sam hissed. "Call them,
daddy. I'll tell them the truth. Please, daddy..."

Tony slowly picked up the phone, his eyes moving from Samantha's weeping face
to Angela's cold sneer. How had this woman he cared so deeply for come to
despise him in just a few short minutes. This was like some kind of
nightmare he couldn't wake from. He shivered as he took the phone off its
cradle and began dialing 911.

"This is a mistake, Tony," Angela challenged him. "A big mistake."

"You don't know what you're doing, Angela," Tony winced through the pain
still on fire in his crotch. "He's got you brainwashed. You don't know what
you're saying."

"S..so w..will I," Jonathan stammered over the cold silence. "A..and I'll
say you abused me, too. That y..you raped me and m..made me have s..sex with
Sam, and you filmed it. I'll tell them you invited men over and had s..sex
parties with us while m..mom was out of town." Jonathan stared into Tony's
eyes with a determination he'd never demonstrated before.

"Jonathan?!" Sam bawled. "Stop it. Stop saying those things."

"No," Jonathan replied. "No, I won't. We have to serve Elijah, don't you
see...? He's right. I'll tell them all that and worse."

"That's three witnesses, Tony," Angela taunted her housekeeper. "Three
people who have no reason to lie against your word. They'll put Samantha
through so much therapy, she'll end up saying anything."

"Why?" Tony let the phone drop to the floor, and the dial tone became an
obnoxious beeping. "Why Angela? Why Mona? Why Jonathan?"

"The Order must be Restored, Tony," Angela replied, smiling up at Elijah.

"I have grown tired of this, Micelli." Elijah grabbed Sam, twisted her arm
and forced her back down her knees, groveling at his feet. "You will make
the proper preparations I have outlined... IMMEDIATELY. You, my two
bond-women, will come with me." He strode to the doorway and motioned for
Angela and Samantha to follow.

"NO!" Tony summoned every last ounce of his strength and courage and rose to
his feet. He grabbed Samantha's crying, huddled form and embraced his
daughter. "She won't. Do you hear me she won't!" Elijah just smiled back
and shook his head. "What's so funny, you sick bastard?" Tony challenged.

"I'm just trying to imagine how you will look in a blond wig with two gallons
of cum dripping from your stretched-out asshole," Elijah cackled. "Yes, you
certainly will make some stone-cold Brother a nice white bitch."

"You don't scare my dad," Sam spat at the black giant.

"When he's gone, you will be mine," Elijah responded casually to the girl.
"You will be mine no matter what. It would be better if you just resigned
yourself to the Order. You don't want to be responsible for your father's
fate, do you...?" he asked the enraged, disoriented teenage beauty. "You
know what they will do to your precious father in prison, don't you...? They
will force him to suck hundreds of black cocks a day just to be allowed to
live. They will pass him from cell to cell and use his cherry white ass as a
cum bucket. If he makes it to the end of his sentence and returns to the
outside world, he will be ass-queer for Black cock. He will hang out in bus
stations and whore himself on the street for a taste of Black cock. Is that
what you want, white cunt?" He sneered. "Maybe that is what you want." He
winked at her.

Samantha Micelli trembled, her pert teenage breasts heaving with nausea and
terror. She looked at Elijah, then to her father, then back to the black
titan. "I'm sorry, dad," she pushed away from her father and took a hesitant
step towards Elijah.

Angela appeared at her side and steadied the girl's steps as they slowly made
their way to the door.

"You can't, Sam," Tony bawled. "You can't do this. Think about what you're
doing. Think about what your mother would say if she were here. Do you
think she'd want you to be some kind of sex slave to... to... HIM!" Tony
grabbed his daughter's arm and glaring defiantly at Elijah. "You can do what
you want," he hissed at Angela. "But I'm not going to stand here and let you
make my daughter a sex slave. I'm not going to let you do that to her, to
me, or to her mother's memory."

"You never were very bright, Micelli," Elijah shook his head. "Marie always
maintained you were even more ignorant than you appeared, and I can see she
was right."

Unable to resist his command, Samantha withdrew the necklace and medal from
beneath the folds of her sweatshirt. It was half a heart, cast in pure gold,
with the words "Serve" inscribed across the front. It had been her mother's,
and when her mother died it had been passed down to her. No one knew where
the other half was or what it said. Tony had always told his daughter the
second half was with her mother in heaven and that it read "God." Sam had
believed these words to this very day. Now, however, the medal that had
always comforted her burned in her hands. She wanted to tear it off and hurl
it into infinity, but she was frozen motionless.

Elijah reached inside the neckline of his own robe and withdrew his own
medal. It was the second half of her mother's heart.

Samantha cringed as Elijah strode over bearing the medal before him. As he
neared her and Tony they could both read the word on his half of the heart,
the word they had wondered about all these years.

"Leroy" the medal read. Samantha burst into tears. Tony gasped, all the
fight sapped from his body.

"I presented this to your mother shortly before you were born." Elijah
pressed the medal into Sam's sweating forehead so that it left an impression.
"I allowed her to have sex with this... worm," he spat at Micelli, "so that
she might produce a lovely, pure white daughter I could then take as my
slave-daughter when she reached puberty. She willingly sacrificed you,
Samantha. She so wanted to share the Blessings of the Order with you. She
wanted so to show you the proper way to worship Black Supremacy. She would
have been so proud to see how beautiful you turned out. She would be so
thrilled to see what a fine breeder you will make."

"You lying son of a bitch," Tony sobbed. "Marie never... she never... she
loved me..."

"She used you to breed a pure white daughter to serve as my cum dumpster,"
Elijah mocked Tony. "Every time she even kissed you, she asked me for
permission. The thought of your pathetic white worm dick made her vomit.
The very sight of you made her sick to her stomach."

"You lie!" Tony wept. "You never even knew my wife. This is all part of
your brainwashing... part of your lies..."

"I guess your right," Elijah smirked. "It won't matter then if I release
these pictures." He reached into the pocket of his robe and withdrew a thick
stack of Polaroids, which he tossed at Tony's feet. The once-proud Italian
couldn't help but stare down, then wished he hadn't.

What greeted Tony's eyes assaulted the very last shred of his sanity. He let
loose a bellow and then began stomping on the pictures as he wept.

Curious, Sam leaned over and scooped one up. Sam recognized her mother, even
though it was a pose unlike any she had ever seen her mother in, or even
conceived was possible. A younger Elijah stood above her kneeling mother,
his hand gripped firmly in her hair, holding her head up the camera like he
was displaying a fresh-killed deer. Marie Micelli's face was covered in cum
and the smile of a little child at Christmas who had just received a new
bike. The reason for her rapturous joy was apparent - the unearthly slab of
spit-shined black cock that rested over her shoulder like a baseball bat.

Sam gasped and then traced her fingers over the photo... across the outline
of her mom's blissful smile, along the stupefying length of Elijah's massive
godhood. With her other hand, she absently played with the medal, her
fingers tracing the letters that spelled out "Serve," the command she had
always connected with Faith in a God, her mother's God.

Well, now Samantha Micelli stood looking at a photograph of her mother's God,
the God Marie Micelli and her daughter had both been born to serve. Samantha
now looked over at her father, wanting him to say something, do something
that would restore the world to its original order in her mind.

But Tony Micelli could do nothing but stand there crying, his pale body
cringing impotently beneath the brunt of raw Black Power. He turned his
tear-stained eyes to his daughter, the thing he treasured most in his life,
but only received the blank stare of a zombie in return. "Sam..." he
whimpered.

"I have to go, dad," Sam turned away from him towards Elijah. "I have to
find the Truth."

"Excellent," Elijah nodded. "Micelli, we will be back in a few hours. I
expect the preparations for our wedding ceremony will be well under way by
then." He dismissed Tony with a wave of his huge hands, and once again
headed to the door, this time with Angela and Samantha at his heels.

Tony clenched his fists and glared at the black giant's back.

"You heard your Master, Tony," Mona snapped at the enraged, impotent Italian.
"Get to work. You have a wedding to plan." She followed her daughter and
Samantha out the door, leaving only Tony and Jonathan in the room.

"What the hell am I going to do?" Tony blubbered to his employer's son.

"Serve the Master," the boy responded with a smile.

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